


various storms and saints

by wonderlandz



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2016, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, brocedes being brocedes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:53:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandz/pseuds/wonderlandz
Summary: maybe that’s why they can do this for the first time and have it feel familiar, why lewis’ hands on his skin and lewis’ breath in his mouth, his tongue hot against nico’s feels like a homecoming and not a first time.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	various storms and saints

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by various storms & saints by florence + the machine.
> 
> i apologise for all the car references in this it got out of hand

there’s nothing special about the moment itself.

it’s a warm day in abu dhabi, and nico is sitting beside lewis on the too-small sofa-bed fresh from his too-brief shower, the strands of hair across his forehead the same colour as the dust-bloated sunbeams coming in from the window.

lewis is looking at him. he's looking because he can. he’s looking because nico’s shirt is clinging to his collarbones and outlining the shape of his chest. because nico is captivating to him, always has been. nico’s shoulder touches lewis when he scoots closer on the cushions.

lewis is looking at him, and nico is watching him do it.

without talking, they both make a turn on the cushions and their legs bend towards each other, one of lewis’ knees touching one of nico’s. lewis’ hands slide slowly out of his lap and nico’s sit in fists against his thighs, his palms suddenly sweaty. they move like a starting car, set in automatic.

if nico had ever believed it would happen, it would have been a fast thing, like a punch or a crash car, something to be talked about after the fact with the details all blurred together. had never believed it would make his heart kick this hard.

lewis leans in a little more, making sure to hold nico’s gaze, to be sure nico knows he knows. he glances down, a quick flick towards nico’s mouth. nico can hear it when he swallows. 

“nico,” lewis says, and it’s not a question, because nico’s already led him for enough time, over the pit wall, against the barriers. any room for a question has been squeezed out along with all the air.

they are going to kiss. he can picture it like an overtake he’s rehearsed again and again. his lips are tingling. they'll kiss and there will be no way back. lewis will touch him and nico will break his shell. his heart will punch craters into the scenery. and his mouth is flooding already.

“nico,” lewis says, knowing, not a question.

“yes,” nico says regardless, with the breath he doesn’t have, grabbing on lewis’ white team polo with clenched fists.

lewis kisses him.

kisses him.

keeps kissing him.

and nico kisses back. he tosses every strategy in the dirt, letting adrenaline take him. lewis wins his way right through nico, soft brushes of his lips getting slowly deeper, surer, the feeling of his skin warmer than nico’s, with a hint of something minty that fades the more nico tries to find it. lewis’ kisses are stubborn and deliberate in a way that makes nico ache, tilt his head and tip his chin into it, opening to the smallest bit of pressure.

he was expecting a battle and instead he’s getting a riot. the weight of lewis’ body props nico up as lewis slowly takes him apart, lips and tongue and teeth, all the determination of a revolutionary. 

they pull apart and their breathing is the loudest thing in the world. nico bumps their temples, for luck, in defiance, counter to all the places he’s blushing and flustered. he inhales and it catches, makes an inventory of his ribs.

“still with me?” lewis asks, soft and teasing. his breath gently parts nico’s mouth.

“don’t play stupid, hamilton,” nico says, aiming hard for something close to steady. “it doesn’t look good on you.”

lewis huffs and nico knocks their foreheads together, and hopes he could make lewis understand everything without ever having to explain it. he imagines himself winning the championship later that week. _see?_ he could finally say, _see what you are?_ but there are other things louder playing in his brain. 

so instead he kisses lewis, quickly finds the space between their mouths again, lashes brushing his cheeks when lewis goes with him, lets him return the kiss lewis left him tasting, both of them reaching for each other.

nico’s painfully glad now that his dreams have never given him this, because he would’ve gotten it wrong. nothing his brain could shape would be similar to the way lewis’ tongue finds the corner of his lips, or the stroke of lewis’ fingers along his sides, up and under his clothes. he wishes they’d done this before the shower, when they were still sweaty and smelled like gas.

all his blood goes through him in a rush, his hand squeezes lewis’s shoulder saying _you should stop me_ and his bottom lip slips soft and bruised between lewis’ saying _don’t let me._

“nico,” lewis sighs, coaxing, up against his mouth, kissing his own teeth marks, raking nails up nico’s forearm and leaving him with goosebumps, touching his neck like he’s never touched anyone before. he keeps saying his name like it suddenly means something.

nico lets his nails trace lewis’ spine, earns noises out of his throat with pulls of teeth. he finds lewis’ hand with his own and presses it to his ribs, his chest, his neck. like he’s saying, _here and here and here._ _this is where i keep us._

he follows the shape of lewis’ ears with two fingers, until lewis groans tight and low and bites at nico’s mouth and nico’s hand falls to the side of lewis’ throat like he can snatch the noise up in a fist. lewis’ palm slides sweat-damp under nico’s shirt and up his back, over his spine. nico maps lewis’ face with brushes of his knuckles, enemies on the wrong race track. so much war in them both.

maybe that’s why they can do this for the first time and have it feel familiar, why lewis’ hands on his skin and lewis’ breath in his mouth, his tongue hot against nico’s feels like a homecoming and not a first time. 

they move apart. nico’s lips twitching as he blinks. his face is pink and his eyes are darker, heavier, fuller. lewis’ chest heaves with a new type of adrenaline.

he smiles and lewis answers with a grin and with his _we just did that!_ chuckle, the one nico’s used to hearing already. their knees are still touching, and their arms, and most of their sides, making the small space even smaller.

“well, alright then,” lewis laughs. 

nico starts to look away and then realises he doesn’t have to. 

“what?” lewis asks. asks like he isn’t looking at nico’s mouth.

“just thinking,” nico shrugs, exactly as unaffected as lewis. there’s sweat on the curve of lewis’s neck where it meets his shoulder. he rubs his fingers together as he says, “i need to beat you on sunday.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if u want :))


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